


Brosca

by Hero_of_Denerim



Series: Welcome to Warden Academy [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dwarf Commoner Origin, Gen, Light Angst, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7580815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hero_of_Denerim/pseuds/Hero_of_Denerim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reinterpretation of the Dwarf Commoner Origin.</p><p>Brosca works as a hacker to overthrow the local crime lord and improve her sister's and her own lives. However, working with both law and crime against her, she will face more problems than she could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brosca

“No!”

An empty coke can flew against the wall and clattered on the floor. Natia stared angrily at the bit where a little of the paint had been chipped away.

“Ancestors take him! He will not force you to continue this!”

Another can hit the wall.

“Natia!”

Her sister took a step back. For a brief moment, her eyes were widened and her lips were tightly pressed together; but she regained her composure almost immediately.

“Natia,” Rika repeated gently, soothingly. She talked to her like a rabid bronto. “Salroka, please. You know I don’t have a choice.”

Natia did know that. And that didn’t help to quell her rage. Though she was even more furious about her sister’s calmness. How could she not care about this? About herself? How could she not try to find another way?

Natia didn’t need to ask her; Beraht would withdraw his protection. And nobody wanted to be on his bad side. They couldn’t hide at their mother’s place, she would sell them out for a bottle of cheap beer. No, they would end up in the alleys of Dust Town if they only so much as hesitated, and his Carta thugs would take care of the rest. They wouldn’t be the first corpses hidden between garbage and other filth. Nor would they be the last.

Still, she could not accept it that easily.

“I will take on bigger jobs! I might finally get enough on him to… to-“

Rica’s sad smile stopped her in her tracks. She was begging, grasping for straws, she knew that, too. But she had to try. She needed to get more information about him so they could finally protect themselves.

“I will find a way,” Natia was yelling again, “I will get us out of here!”

Rica only smiled sadly. “You know that we don’t have a choice,” she repeated.

“He still can’t make you do this!” Anger burnt hot through her, consuming every other thought in her. She only wanted to protect her sister. Why wasn’t she capable of doing just that? She knew that there was little to gain for her on this front, however. They had argued about Rica’s profession countless times. In the end, Natia never had persuaded her sister to stay in their flat, to abandon her job and her patrons; it only ended in her being angry at herself and her sister being even sadder. Every single time.

Rica put on her make-up and packed up her working clothes: a short, translucent red dress, fishnet tights and black high-heeled boots. She grabbed her coat and with a little wave towards her sister, Rica left the flat.

Natia only gritted her teeth. She would find a way to stop this. She had to. She could not endure much longer to hear her sister crying in the shower after her shift, desperate to scrub off the lingering touches of her patrons. She could not endure how her sister would pretend it never happened. Just one more job, she would tell herself, every time Rica left the flat, just a little more time so she could find enough dirt on Beraht for their own protection.

This thought kept her alive, functioning; the only glimmer of hope she allowed herself to have. It was the only thing that made her smile; a twisted, hateful and vicious kind of smile, when she imagined that one day, one day she might take her turn on him and repay him everything that he has done to them.

With a sigh she reached under her desk and turned on her computer. One of the things Beraht has provided for them, along with their flat, and Rica’s clothes. Another part of their debt to him, he constantly reminded them about. While not the latest model, Natia begrudgingly had to admit that it worked well enough so she could use it for her jobs.

She booted up Raven to look for new messages. It was the only way to contact Beraht, or rather the only way he would contact her. And she knew why; although this program was about as flexible and user-friendly as a bronto, it was said to be the chat client with the tightest security protocols. Natia snorted. She has cracked many programs presumed to be equipped with high-end defence mechanisms. And one day, Raven would spill all its secrets to her, too.

Today though, it wouldn’t spill anything. Not a single new message. She had not expected much else, although a new task would have been helpful, especially now, since she grew more and more restless with their situation. But she would find another way to pass her time, she always had. Time had yet to stop when she grew bored.

So, she fished another can of coke from the fridge underneath her desk. New munition for the next argument, she thought bitterly when she took a sip, and carefully put it on a free spot on her cluttered desk. Her sister had stopped asking her to clean up her space by now. She only scoffed playfully at her when Natia would claim that she was fuelled by chaos; she had called her lazy and a hoarder; eventually, she had given up. Now, she missed these quips.

She grabbed her headset dangling from the edge of her desk and gently untangled the cable. She needed music, and she needed it loud, and she didn’t want their neighbours to complain about them again. They were already eyeing them in an alarmingly hostile way. She huffed. So much for support between Dusters.

She forced herself to focus and browsed her music library. What would she listen to this time, she mused. Something loud, something grand, something… She hovered her cursor over one album and smirked. That would do. When she pulled on her headphones, she was immediately surrounded by violin and piano chords. She knew that it would intensify soon and cascade into an orchestral firework. Just the ideal tune she needed to drown out the outside.

She exhaled, opened the directory of her own projects and opened her biggest one. Her very own masterpiece: a virus with an implemented learning algorithm, with a certain beauty in its efficiency. It had taken her three years to shape the framework design so it would do what she wanted, and three more to work out the code structure to breathe live into it. Natia couldn’t help but feel proud. Her very own golem, her creation, and, when she would have polished the last section of code, her chance to change her life. Her life and Rica’s. Their lives, and maybe the lives of all those poor souls indebted to Beraht. Paragons have been elected for less…

Humming along the tunes, now dominated by trumpets and oboes, she opened her editor and chose the part she wanted to rework. Time flew by as she adjusted orders, added loops and figured out errors.

When she was about to solve the problem behind a particularly annoying error, she heard the chime of an incoming message. She groaned inwardly before she switched windows. Still annoyingly intrusive, but it was better than that wing flapping sound, which made Raven only unnecessarily edgier than it already was.

“Oh by the Stone,” Natia muttered under her breath when she opened the chat log.

B.: new job

B.: details when you accept

She drew in a sharp breath, muted her music and quickly fumbled on her headset to find the right button, cursing her shaking hands, and pressed her speed dial button when she finally found it. When she heard a faintly mumbled “Hello?” on the other end, she quickly thanked the ancestors before talking into her mic. “Leske! I need you awake! Get some caffeine in your system!”

“Natia? It’s in the middle of the night! Sod off and let me sleep-“

“Beraht just messaged me,” she interrupted him. Impatience tugged at her nerves, stretching them even thinner then they usually are. She forced herself to calm down a bit. “You need to check yours.”

“Oh.” He paused for a bit. “Okay. Hold on a sec.” She could hear walk through his flat to his own computer. “About what?”

Natia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “About the latest Orlesian fashion, you nughumper. What do you think?”

“Alright, no reason to get so offensive, salroka.”

She sighed and turned her attention back to her monitor. Beraht’s offer was staring at her face, taunting and intimidating her, as they always did. She swallowed forcefully and accepted.

N.: k

Her own line appeared at the bottom, and she leaned back in her chair; she stared at it and waited. Her still shaking fingers tipped on her desk, a nervous habit of hers.

“Okay so… I also got something. From him, I mean. From Beraht. I just accept, then?” Leske’s voice snapped her out of her stasis. She nodded, although she knew he couldn’t see it, yet she didn’t answer. It wasn’t that much of a question anyway.

Another chime made her focus on the screen again.

B.: oskias refused to pay for protection

B.: get his coin

Leske made an exasperated noise at the other end of the phone. “Protection again?” he complained. “That won’t be too much of a challenge. Alright. I get the details and send them to you.” With that he logged out.

N.: k

Natia hesitated a bit before typing in the rest.

N.: need bigger cut

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard while she waited for an answer. She was being bold, and she knew that Beraht didn’t haggle but she needed to try. What could she possibly lose?

Eventually, Leske send her the information she needed; by then she still hasn’t received a response. So, she examined the details about Oskias. If that shady merchant could stand up to Beraht, so could she… Leske was right about the job, though. It would be ridiculously easy to hack Oskias’ account. It seemed almost as if he didn’t even try to protect his money. She smirked and busied herself with extracting his login data. It didn’t even take an hour for her to accomplish that, and she compiled her results into a short report. She opened up raven again and uploaded her report to Beraht’s chat.

N.: help yourself

She continue to stare at the screen for a while, but he would not answer any of her messages. She only stopped, when she heard the key turn in the flat door. With a last glance at the chat log, she turned off her computer and wound up the headphone cable before placing it at the edge of her desk again. If Beraht had wanted to answer, he would have. Her boldness started to make her feel sick, formed a tight knot in her stomach. She probably should be thankful to receive any payment now.

Rica poked her head through the door just when she stood up. “I’m back,” she said, and before Natia could even open her mouth she lifted a plastic bag, “and I got food.”

“Great.” Natia forced a smile on her face. She would not start another argument today. “I’ll get the plates.”

 

***

 

A week had passed, and she had yet to receive her payment; neither had she heard anything from Beraht at all, and she grew more anxious by the minute. She had been slightly relieved when Leske complained about not being paid as well, yet she also felt guilty. Could she have possibly angered Beraht that much? It was bad enough that she put her own future at risk, but she didn’t want to pull another Duster into her mess.

She tried distracting herself, mostly with polishing her golem virus and testing bits of it to snoop out new security bots. It worked pretty well that far. It wasn’t subtle, neither was she, however, and golems even less so. The news were filled with reports about security breaches over diverse industries. That only made her snicker. They couldn’t trace its origins, because when singled out, her virus would destroy itself, corrupting even more data with that. A nice safety measure she had copied from Qunari spy technology. Truly a masterpiece.

At least Rica seemed to be less melancholic of late. She often smiled in her calm, gentle way. When Natia asked her sister about that, she glowed with joy, and she casted down her eyes, appearing almost shy about being happy. “I’ve met someone, salroka,” she said, and giggled like a carefree child. “Someone special.”

It filled Natia with warmth to see her sister like that. And hope, that maybe, it wasn’t all just bad. That maybe, they could make it after all.

It was only when Rica had left for another night to satisfy the demands of another patron, that Leske called her. “I finally got my payment. And a new offer.”

Natia quickly booted up Raven. “Let me check,” she mumbled, more to herself than as an answer. Relief flooded her, when she opened the transfer confirmation. The set of new messages gave her pause, though.

B.: your cut is transferred

B.: only warning

B.: not your place to make demands

“Natia? You alright?” She registered Leske’s worried question only partly.

A notification blinked up.

B.: second chance

“Yeah. I guess.”

B.: bigger job with bigger cut

B.: prove yourself

“I got it, too.”

B.: details when you accept

Natia couldn’t help flashing a grin at the screen. This had been close, but it had worked. Somehow. Without musing too much about the reasons behind that, she quickly typed her answer.

N.: k

She leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms before her chest. Anticipation pulsed through her, tensing her up. This might be her chance.

“Well…” Leske paused awkwardly, “did you accept? I can’t pull this off without you.”

“As if I had a choice,” she snapped at him, way harsher than she intended to. “Sorry. Just… A bigger job, Leske! I might finally get enough dirt on him to finish him”

She could hear him hesitate. “But… Who would we work for then?”

Natia rolled her eyes and laughed. “We won’t need to work, Leske! We will be heroes! The Paragons of Dust Town! The shapers will write stories about us!” This prospect made her feel giddy. She couldn’t wait to work on this job!

Another chime lead her attention back to the chat log.

B.: proving ground tournament

B.: get me the winnings

She could hardly believe what she just read. Beraht wanted them to rig Orzammar’s highly prestigious Casino? That certainly was big. Her skin tingled in excitement. She would so make it worth her while.

Leske whistled nervously. “I don’t think we should-“

“You know what happens to quitters, Leske! And didn’t you complain about the jobs being too easy lately?” she chuckled. “It will take a while, yes, but we should manage our preparations until next month. And imagine what we’d get out of that! Don’t let me alone in this, salroka!” She grinned when she heard his exasperated hum. “Fine!” he groaned, defeated. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll be the first to leave for Kal-Sharok, I can promise you that.”

“Deal!”

 

***

 

Natia spend all her waking moments on finetuning her golem virus. It would be the grand way to unleash it she had dreamt of. The renowned Proving Grounds have claimed too loudly that they can’t be hacked; she’d make sure they won’t be able to claim that anymore after their big tournament.

It also helped her eradicating the last mistakes in her code. She could simply substitute illogical errors with native code from the Proving Ground pages themselves. And it would make it work even faster and more efficient that way. As soon as money was deposited at their account it would be transferred to another account immediately. And since the house always wins…

Natia stretched her hands to overcome the beginning cramps. Only minor adjustments, and she could feed it into the system, let it unravel itself from there.

She sat up and rolled her shoulders. Now that her golem was finished, she wondered about how exactly she could pull that off. Certainly, she could send it attached to a message; probably the least effort on her part. But she didn’t want to rely on the idiots working there. They probably had their directions printed out and taped to their screens. That image made her snicker.

No, mail was not an option. She could hack one of their computers and place it manually. It would require more work, she supposed, and she wasn’t sure if operating from her own flat would even that out. With bad luck, she would likely only get into the system via a restricted account. Without direct access to the servers or at least some security privileges, it would take too much time to breach the protocols.

She was running out of options. Unless… She started smirking. There was a big server hall in Dust Town, not that far away from her place. And Natia would bet that she would find the Proving Ground servers there as well. She opened a drawer behind her and hummed in approval when she fished out a thumb drive. An old-fashioned injection directly into the heart, yes, but she like it nonetheless.

She ran another program over her code to check for any errors she might have overlooked, and copied it when she was satisfied with the results. Her hands shook a little when she plugged out the flash drive. “Get it together,” she scorned herself as she pocketed it. There was no reason for her to be nervous, right? She was prepared for everything. She could pull that off. She could make Beraht finally pay.

Natia grabbed the spare key and left. She had left a note for her sister so that she wouldn’t worry, but she hoped she would be back before Rica woke up. On her way to the server building, she wondered about how exactly she could get inside. Leske, was her answer, as she arrived at the square. She counted three security cameras monitoring the front alone, and she could only guess how many more had been placed inside.

She sighed, pulled out her phone and called Leske. She had hoped it would be faster, in and out in no time. But she would go through with it. She had come too far to turn back now.

“Leske? I really could use your help right now,” she said when she heard him pick up.

“I- yeah, sure. What do you need, salroka?”

“How long would it take to hack the surveillance system in this big server building here in Dust Town?” She could almost hear him think, before he responded, “Probably half an hour or so. Depends on the software they use, really. But why do you- what are you doing in at there?”

Natia rolled her eyes, yet she bit her tongue. Now was not the time for snarky comments. “I need to get the virus inside the system. I figured this might be the easiest option.”

“Eh. As good as any reason. Keep you posted,” he said before he hung up.

With Leske busy, there wasn’t much she could do. She inspected the square and spotted a small niche with clear view at the building. She quickly stepped over and cowered down. Her ragged jeans and worn shirt made it easy to mistake her for another beggar. There were plenty others on the streets of Dust Town, one more wouldn’t raise any attention.

Time trickled by slowly, and only a few walked through the alleyways; even fewer took notice of her at all. At least that was working for her, she thought grimly. She started to feel antsy. Shouldn’t Leske be finished by now, she wondered. She was hesitant to check her phone, convinced that she might blow her cover. She barely kept herself from dissolving into a fit of giggles at that thought. Now she was becoming paranoid, mad even. No one cared for a Duster, let alone a beggar. And if they did, they would think she had stolen it somewhere, and would have avoided her anyway.

She was acting ridiculous. She forced herself to take a deep breath, and pulled out her phone. Just then it started vibrating. “You have an hour,” Leske told her.

Natia looked around carefully, and when she saw that the square was empty, she darted towards the entrance. “What, do you only had that much footage?”

His exaggeratedly offended sigh made her chuckle. “No, salroka, I could busy the camera until we all return to the Stone. But the tournament will start soon and I thought you wanted to be out of there when it does.”

She cursed under her breath, provoking laughter from Leske in return. “Didn’t plan to stay that long anyway. You still have access to the real time footage?”

Another groan. “Not my first heist, remember?”

“Then I surely don’t need to ask that you update me if anything changes, right?” she mocked him.

“Just finish the job,” he grumbled.

She tucked her phone between her neck and her shoulder and inspected the lock. Mechanical only. Risky for company property in Dust Town. Everyone knew that Dusters would learn to pick locks like that as quickly as merchant children learned to count coins. She pulled out her lock picks and opened it on her first try. Her old skills weren’t as rusty as she had feared.

With a final glance to her sides, she pulled the door open and entered the building.

“Which way?”

“Okay, so, you need to take the first left, and the second right…” He continued to direct her to find a locked door. This, too, didn’t put up any resistance. The door swung open. Inside, the high towers of dull metal and flashing lights instilled a sense of awe in her. She followed the bulk of cables to the back of the room, lingering at some of the boxes on the way. She took in the smell, the dust, the warmth, the electrical buzz, and found it deeply relaxing. A smile spread over her face.

But she had a job to do. She took out her thumb drive and plugged it in. “Dulen harn. Prove your worth, my golem,” she whispered. The virus would take activate on its own, so she decided to explore the room during the uploading process. She found that the equipment was quite old, and in a poor state. Tenderly, she stroke over this dented hull and she investigated that just off-key buzz. “Typical,” she muttered, “they always try to save expenses at the wrong end.”

“You said something?”

“Ah, no. I just wondered why I don’t simply start working here. Taking care of the computer would be great for a change.” She meant it as a light-hearted joke, but when spoken out loud she couldn’t help but long for a life like that. If she had been born in a different family, in a different life…

“Sure,” he drawled, “because the Paragon of Dust Town definitely needs to work in one of those horribly underpaid jobs.”

“Well, yeah. Even paragons can become bored, you know.”

She heard him chuckle. “Whatever. Just finish up and get your nug’s arse out of there. The sooner the better.”

“Aye,” Natia complied, and walked back to the main server. She carefully pulled out the drive and made for the exit. With a last, longing look at the room, she closed the door behind her.

“Veata! Shit, Natia, wait!”

She froze. “This isn’t funny,” she hissed.

“A sodding night guard just entered and is on his way towards you. Probably only making his rounds. Go back inside and hide!” He paused briefly, and added: “And the tournament just started. Maybe he is here to keep people like us from meddling with anything.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “But we already have meddled, and I need to get out of here.” The machines inside were old and badly maintained enough that she suspected that their ventilation wouldn’t work properly, either. It would turn into a sauna in mere minutes. When he didn’t react, she insisted: “Right. Now.”

“But-“

“No. Get me out of here!”

“Fine.” He started to give her brusque directions. Getting out, however, was not remotely as easy as getting inside. The layout proved to be a mace of narrow corridors, locked doors and maintenance equipment blocking ways, leaving her little room to evade the guard when he got too close. It took her a while to reach the entrance, her legs shaking and feeling incredibly relieved. Even Leske exhaled audibly. “That was close, salroka. You shouldn’t have risked-“

A strong arm wound around her neck and lifted her off her feet. Natia clawed at it but couldn’t get through the thick fabric of the jacket. Her captor didn’t react to that, she only heard someone behind her say: “We caught one, deshyr,” and after a pause filled with the static noise of a communication device, “yes, deshyr.”

Natia cried out as she was shoved against a wall; all air violently left her lungs and she saw stars before her eyes. One hand twisted her arms behind her back, while another searched all her pockets. She could all but gasp when the guard carelessly tugged at her clothing.

“We found something, deshyr. A thumb drive… Yes, deshyr.”

The arm was around her neck again as she was pulled from the wall. Her back was pressed flush against the guard. She tried to scratch the arm again, and managed to uncover a bit of flesh. She bit.

She was released with a pained outcry, and stumbled over the pavement. Before she could regain her balance, however, another pair of hands restrained her arms at her sides. The previous guard had recovered then, and towered before her. His face was a grimace of pain and fury. “Filthy duster!” he spat. With his gloved fist, he hit her across her face, and everything went dark.

 

***

 

Natia woke up in a cell. Her head hurt and her arms were bruised. Dizziness shot through her as she sat up. She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t make out much. Everything seemed blurry and mashed.

A metallic click interrupted her in her thoughts, and she almost threw up when she turned her head too quickly to face the noise. She struggled to keep her last meal down with all the power she had left in her. Quickly, she pressed her eyes shut and wished it would be over. She had never dreamt before. But this had to be a dream. A horrible, weird, uncomfortably real dream.

“Awake, are you?” a cold voice came from her side, then she heard a snap. “Bring her to the interrogation room.”

She felt someone haul her onto her feet, and fought against another wave of nausea. She was dragged through a long hallway, until she was tossed onto a chair.

“Talk,” said the passionless voice again.

“I…“ Her throat was dry and burning, she could not force out a single word. She slowly opened her eyes. A small cup filled with water stood in front of her. She reached for it, hesitantly at first, and when that provoked no reaction, she grabbed the cup and downed the cool liquid. Her throat was still sore, but she knew she couldn’t be silent for much longer.

She tried again, “I don’t know-“

A hand slapped her hard against her cheek. Tears stinging in her eyes, she looked up. The woman in front of her had cold, impassionate eyes and a cruel grin on her lips. She didn’t even bother to hide it. With one fluid motion, she hit her hands on the table between them and leaned on them, her head now on eye level. “You filth pollute these very halls just by existing here. Don’t test my patience, Duster,” she spat, not once breaking her intense glare. “Try harder.”

Before Natia could answer, she heard the door opening behind her. Another one. She did her best not to shrink in that uncomfortable plastic chair. Only a miracle could get her out of this. She send a quick prayer to the Stone. It couldn’t hurt her now anyway.

“I was tasked to manipulate the Proving Grounds tournament,” she eventually forced out. The person in the back of the room reached around her to put another paper cup of water on the table. She gulped it down greedily.

“Tasked? By whom?” The female dwarf in front of her recaptured her attention. Natia glared at her, with as much contempt as she could muster, before she spat out, “Beraht!”

The other dwarf laughed. She bared her crooked teeth when she opened her mouth widely.

“Jarvia,” the newcomer behind her said warningly, but it didn’t stop her. She bellowed even more. “All of you worthless nughumpers in Dust Town claim that. But your crime was too big, too… ambitious for me to let it slide. The whole winnings of the tournament have been re-transfered, and you just confessed that you did it.” She cackled, high-pitched, viciously. “Prove it. Prove, that you aren’t to blame. Or even better: start to cooperate and get that money back.”

Natia’s face grew hot and her hands began to shake. She shut it down immediately, yet a short glance upwards showed her that Jarvia had noticed, that her grin had become even wider. She pulled her hands under the table and balled them into fists. She couldn’t show any further hint of weakness here, to her. She would not break. If they broke her, they would get to Rica…

This thought alone enraged her. It took every fibre of her being not to lash out. “I saved every conversation on a flash drive,” she pressed out through gritted teeth.

Jarvia laughed again. “Funny you’d say that. Do you really think we haven’t searched your little hideout already? All your devices have been wiped clean. Explain this, filth.”

Natia could almost feel her jaw drop. When they have found their flat, they must have found… No! She pushed that thought out of her mind. Rica would be safe, she had to be. She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second. Otherwise… Otherwise, they would pay. She breathed out sharply and looked Jarvia directly in the eye. “Why would I delete my files,” she finally spat out, barely concealing her state of duress.

Jarvia only stared back. “We asked that ourselves. And do you want to know what our answer was?” Natia looked down, she could feel beads of cold sweat running down her neck. She wanted to feel angry, to feel she had some control left, some leverage, but she only felt panic spreading through her. She didn’t want to listen. She wanted her to stop, to leave.

“We found, that only Beraht themselves would try to cover up their tracks. No one has communicated with them directly. I expected someone with more… presence than you filth, I’ll gladly admit to be wrong, however, if I can root out your pathetic Carta once and for all.” Jarvia towered in front of her, glaring at her accusingly. “We caught you, ‘Beraht’.” She bowed mockingly. “It’s time to stop your games and cooperate.”

Something about her put Natia on edge. Maybe it was the way Jarvia observed her, calculated, yet also with hunger; as if she watched a roasted nug being served. She couldn’t help but feel that Jarvia’s enjoyment wasn’t fully professional. There was more behind that…

“You can’t be serious! I’m not-“ Her rebuff earned her another slap across her face, and this time she could taste blood on her tongue. A new wave of nausea hit her, and she had to swallow hard to overcome this one.

Meanwhile, the stranger behind her spoke up, firmly, and seemingly unfazed by the display. “Jarvia, enough.” The addressed dwarf grimaced visibly annoyed, but she stepped aside.

“The virus you created… it was… impressive.” The man walked around the table and stopped on the opposite site of the room. He turned and faced her, his features kind and thoughtful, his black beard groomed. Natia eyed him suspiciously. She would not fall for this obviously cliché interrogation tactic. Even though she did find him way more sympathetic than Jarvia. Right now, however, she would find anyone more likeable than Jarvia, she warned herself. She was curious what a human was doing in Orzammar, though.

The man smiled at her, warmly, kindly. Friendly. She didn’t remember the last time when someone smiled at her like that. Had anyone ever smiled at her like that? She glanced at him briefly. In another life, they might have been friends.

“How long have you been working on that?”

Natia’s mistrust snapped back in place. He only wanted her to induct him in all the details of her golem virus, she thought to herself. She could not give up any more.

When she refused to speak, he continued, “It must have taken you quite a while to design it.”

“She must have planned this for a long time,” Jarvia cut in, her unsettling smile back on her face. “No matter what you do, you keep digging your grave. Time is dusting, filth.” She spat at her. “Maybe I can give you some incentive: I know where Rica is.”

At that, Natia finally snapped. She only could take so much, and this was too far. “You leave her out of this,” she yelled, her voice pitching higher. “You know a nug’s shit about life in Dust Town! You don’t know what we have to do to survive!” She hung her head, feeling all of a sudden so tired, and added in a whisper, “leave her out of this. She didn’t do anything.”

She kept herself from looking up, yet she could almost hear Jarvia’s grin. “Then thank you for confirming your motivation. Duncan, we’ll leave now.” She paused briefly, and Natia could hear her hiss something under her breath, before she spoke up again. “You! Get her back to her cell.”

She could feel Duncan’s gaze upon her, but she still would not lift her head to meet it. Instead, she buried her head in her hands. She had lost everything. And if they have found Rica… What could she do now?

Natia was pulled to her feet again and dragged back to her cell.  After the door shut behind her, her legs gave in. All the anger, the fear, everything was gone. She only felt empty, numb. If they got Rica, there was nothing she had left. Nothing she could fight for. She stared at the wall, still half-kneeling, and let time pass.

She had been expecting to end up like this, at some point. That was part of her job. So she didn’t pity herself. She only thought about her sister.

Natia had failed her.

Rica only wanted to live peacefully. She had endured so much, sacrificed so much, only that they could make a living. Just because Natia couldn’t accept their fate, because she felt their life wasn’t good enough, Rica had to suffer for that. It had always been like that. And now, she would be lucky, if Beraht would still employ her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and sniffed. Maybe, if she did cooperate, they would protect Rica. She dismissed that notion within the second it shot through her head. Jarvia wouldn’t move a finger to save her sister, she simply knew that. A small part of her even suggested, that maybe Rica was better off without her.

She hardly registered that the door opened again. Only when a hand touched her lightly on the shoulder, she turned around.

Duncan knelt beside her, smiling in this comforting, earnest way that would have driven her up the walls if she hadn’t felt so exhausted. So instead of attacking, she just studied him.

“They discuss your sentence tonight. And it does look bleak. Jarvia pushes you forward as the head of the Carta. I have seen the charges; head of a criminal syndicate, heisting, fraud, assaulting officials… She wants you locked up for quite some time.” He exhaled audibly. “I don’t believe that. Be that as it may, there is only so much I can do. So. Tell me. Why did you work on that virus in the first place?”

Natia looked at him; for the first time she took in his features, stilling a new-found curiosity inside her. She saw the small wrinkles of laughter around his eyes, and the ones of worry on his forehead. She saw his dark brown eyes, filled with empathy and so much more. She looked at him, and she considered her options. She could lie to him, pretend to be part of some big scheme, like Jarvia already believed. She could decline to talk to him, at all. She didn’t owe him anything. How far would she get with that, though? She already was in prison, and so far he seemed to be the only one genuinely interested in hearing her out, or even helping her.

So she only shrugged and she said as casual as she could, “because I could do it.”

Duncan nodded at that, very seriously, as if this was the answer he had expected. Maybe, he had. He waited a bit, possibly to give her the chance to elaborate, but when she didn’t, he sighed again. “You know, your virus could also be used to test defence protocols.”

Natia perked up a bit. This was not the direction how she had expected this talk to go.

“At Warden Academy, you could learn to improve existing codes. And your skills with that, of course,” he continued and added hesitantly, “if you liked.”

“’Academy’ huh? Sounds expensive,” she quipped without thinking. Immediately after that was out, she mentally kicked herself. This was the wrong time to be a smart arse! She wasn’t talking to her sister, or Leske…

She immediately felt guilt weighing down on her. She had completely forgotten about Leske! She could only hope he made it out of this mess. Maybe, Jarvia had only focussed on her and didn’t bother to investigate him further. Natia knew better than to believe that, but still… A small piece of her wanted to hope. Jarvia couldn’t find everything, could she?

“Your skills qualify you for a full scholarship, so you needn’t worry.” Duncan’s voice distracted her from her thoughts. His lips twitched up. “If you accept, I’ll sign your papers. I have certain… liberties, if you will. You would be required to leave Orzammar. We’ll provide housing on campus proper; I assume you agree to those terms?”

When he raised a brow expectantly, she realised that she hadn’t answered. His offer made her speechless, no one had ever cared enough about her to prepare her for the overwhelming relieve she felt now. She only managed a small nod. Duncan stood up to leave the room. At the door, he turned around again. “Just one more thing: you should refrain from further engaging in criminal activities. I will vouch for you, but I can only protect you so much. A formality, of course. I’m convinced that you will find a more productive way to pass you time at the academy.” He winked at her, and left.

Natia kept staring at the door long after Duncan was gone. She was uncertain if that exchange had actually happened. The longer she sat there, the stronger her disbelief gnawed at her. This could not possibly have happened.

She had no means to keep track of time, but after what felt to her like an eternity, her cell door was opened and Duncan reappeared, accompanied by a guard. “You are free to go,” the latter grumbled.

She got up and trailed behind Duncan, leaving the facility. Finally, a smile spread over her features. Miracles do happen, she thought, and silently thanked the Stone, the ancestors, and every other deity she could think of right then. For the first time in her life, she had hope.

Natia swore to herself, that she would use her second chance well. And as soon as she could, she would get Rica out of this.

**Author's Note:**

> First time I've been writing since high school, and I decided to finally post something.  
> I just love the Dragon Age series to pieces, so naturally it was my first choice to explore the characters a little bit more!  
> This particular set-up has been haunting me for quite a while now, and no one is more suprised I managed to write it down than me. 
> 
> I plan to re-imagine the other origin stories as well, so if this is your thing, be on the look-out for this little series.
> 
> Comments and critique are welcome (as long as you stay nice please), kudos even more so.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :)


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